


naked

by awespiring



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, peter really loves mj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awespiring/pseuds/awespiring
Summary: It was everything and nothing like Peter was expecting.





	naked

Peter Parker was not one of those men who despised and picked apart everything they hated about the natural, human form of a woman. He knew that all women were built different, acted differently, and even carried themselves differently. May had made sure to teach him how to respect the people around himself, _especially_ women.

Not to be dramatic, but he would totally go to battle for equal women’s rights. He didn’t understand the hostility that men felt the need to uphold against them. _He_ thought women were pretty badass.

Women like MJ. God, _MJ_. She was a force to be reckoned with. She was everything that Peter thought was the perfect woman. Strong, resilient, beautiful. But, that was just by the way she talked and how he viewed her from an outsiders perspective. Sure, plenty of her classmates considered her to be uptight and rude—a bitch, for better lack of words. She wasn’t though. MJ just didn’t have the time to act like she worshipped men, and they didn’t like that.  
But, when Peter finally peeled back the layers that MJ built up around her, he realized how sensitive and vulnerable she could be. Not that she was a completely different person, but she did allow Peter to see some real emotion from her. She would laugh and smile and sometimes even cry. MJ had never felt comfortable around anyone until she met Peter. It was a lot for her to take in.

Bless her mom for teaching her to never let anyone break her down, but with Peter, she just _crumbled_. And he was so protective and caring that it scared her—she’d never had good experiences with the opposite sex. Particularly when it came to her body.

Much like other women, catcalling was something that she was used to. She wasn’t priding herself on how much it happened either, she knew how obnoxious it was and men weren’t as privy to how it made women feel. Or they just didn’t care. But, there was also that one time during freshman year of gym class when Flash thought it would be funny to point out her chest, which was flatter than most of the fifteen-year-old girls in the class. And it’s not that MJ cared about him poking fun at the fact that she had small boobs, it’s that he did it in front everyone and they all laughed—except for Peter and his friend Ned, the odd one that always asked her about Star Wars and science stuff. He was cool, she didn’t have a problem with them.

“You can make fun of me all you want, but _I’m_ not the one with a micropenis, Eugene.” MJ counters, holding her thumb and index finger up so they were close together. All of the girls giggled behind her and Flash immediately turned red.

You really just need to hit them where it hurts sometimes.

MJ was at a point, now, where she was comfortable in her skin. Puberty came and went, so did all of the awkward and anxious feelings of your body changing and making you feel unlike yourself. But here she was, laying down in front of her boyfriend, terrified and scared out of her wits.

“MJ, what’s wrong?” Peter asks, pulling back to look at her face. She could feel his breath ghosting against her face, hot and heavy. She hadn’t realized how, out of habit, she kept pushing Peter’s hand away every time it found it’s way under her shirt.

It’s not like she was scared of him or didn’t want him to, she did. She _really_ did. But MJ was having a hard time letting that part of herself be open to someone else. So, she slowly wraps her arms around her chest, looking at him with sad, apologetic eyes.

“Woah, _hey_ ,” Peter says, slowly caressing both sides of her face, “we don’t have to do anything, M. We can stop.”

But that’s the thing, she didn’t want to stop.

She sighs, reaching forward hesitantly to grab at his shirt, pulling him against her. She kissed him soft and light, nothing compared to what they had been doing.

“I want to,” She whispers against his lips, her voice was weak, “I just—what if I’m not, like—what if it’s not what you expected?”

“You think I have some kind of specific expectations?” Peter asks, a little baffled. “MJ, no. I would never make you feel that way. We don’t even have to go any further if it makes you uncomfortable.”

MJ shakes her head slowly, reaching her hand between them to unbutton her jeans, she leaves them open slightly before returning to look at Peter, who seemed a little shocked.

Maybe she shouldn’t feel as vulnerable as she does, because Peter could be feeling the same exact way—he’s just better at hiding it.

“Do you—want me to,” Peter looks down, motioning toward her pants, MJ nods and it makes her laugh a little at the reaction on his face, “ _yeah_ , okay.”  
It’s a slow, intimate moment between one another. Peter is entirely focused on the task at hand, while MJ lifts her hips to allow him to continue. She wiggles her feet when he gets towards the end, helping him pull the rest off and then there’s silence. Not the kind that makes her want to run and hide, because she’s staring at Peter, who’s staring at back at her— well, her legs more specifically, like they’re some kind of national treasure.

And he’s resting between them, her legs on either side of his. Peter’s tentative when he reaches out to touch her skin, soft and smooth, the slightest bit of stubble rubbing against his palm. He never wanted MJ to feel so self-conscious about herself that she couldn’t be comfortable in her own body around him. He admired her regardless of how she looked.

She slowly sits up, having met him halfway. He was leaned over her slightly, creating a shadow against her. She reaches for the bottom of her cotton shirt and lifts it over her head, no hesitation this time.

If there was any time for him to run, it would be now. But by the look on his face, he wasn’t going anywhere. It also wasn’t a secret that MJ didn’t wear bras. They are uncomfortable and she didn’t feel like she needed them. Peter had noticed on multiple occasions because he’s a teenage boy and he loves looking at his girlfriend’s body, but he never asked about it. It was her business anyways.

“Uh, wow.” Peter breathes out.

She’s leaned back on her hands, looking up at him with a vulnerability he’s never seen before. Her chest is staring right at him and—holy crap he was not prepared for this. He reaches out slowly, running a hand over the side of her left breast, they were everything and nothing like he expected. His thumb grazes over her nipple accidentally and he looks at her like he’s done something wrong or without asking, she just laughs in response and pulls him forward.

He tries and actually manages to pull his shirt off during another very heavy make-out session, which soon turns into touching, and then some groping, to the point where the two are practically _grinding_ against each other, the only thing standing between them was his boxers and her pair of lacy, black underwear.

“Can I take them off?” He asks between breaths, running his lips along her neckline and over her shoulder. And part of her could actually melt at the fact that he even asked. She quickly comes to and nods in response.

There are built up fears she’s feeling, but she feels so secure with Peter that it doesn’t even matter. And when he finally manages to get them off, it’s like the line of tension between them brakes and she can breathe.

He laughs, kind of like a giddy little teenager, burying his face into her chest and leaving gentle pecks from one breast to the other, letting his hands roam her body.

She stops him just short of her pelvic area, a loose grasp on his wrist. He looks worried and she quickly tries to explain.

“I haven’t _really_ , like—“ MJ motions towards where his hand is resting, “I don’t want to gross you out or anything.”

“Please,” Peter says, whispering against her ear, “just because you didn’t shave doesn’t mean I love your body any less. It doesn’t bother me. You look beautiful, clothes or no clothes, MJ. You don’t need to hide around me.”

  
And _thank god_ for men like Peter Parker.


End file.
